Where He Changed His Name
by renaissancegirl23
Summary: After YG1, when Chavez goes to California. Rebecca Armand, the daughter of a ranch owner, meets the young man and is unaware of his true identity...


This is my idea and version of what happened to Chavez during the year that takes place between Young Guns and Young Guns II (I don't care if it's not historically accurate to the real story!) Anyway, enjoy!

Part 1: The Armand Ranch

Rebecca Armand shaded her eyes as she looked out across her father's Californian fruit fields. The workers busily picked strawberries, removed weeds, or carried baskets full of fruit up to the storage houses. Rebecca coughed a little; the day was hot and without wind to blow the dust away. The young lady enjoyed watching the workers; her mechanical mind constantly thought of various ways to improve efficiency, a fact her father treasured, though her mother did not.

"See how those people need to walk all that way carrying baskets, Lupe?" she asked her young attendant. Lupe's English was quite limited and she didn't completely understand Rebecca, but she nodded anyway. "If we added some donkey-pulled carts, they wouldn't need to take that long, hard walk, and they'd finish picking more quickly. I must go and see Father with this idea. _Vamanos a la casa._" Lupe followed Rebecca up the hill to the house. Lupe always liked seeing the large tan stucco house with the carefully-tended gardens out front and private gardens in the back. The small half-Mexican girl thanked her stars she had the privilege of being a house servant.

"Father!" called Rebecca as she entered. "Father!" Rebecca walked through the obstacle course of decorations, food, and chairs needing to be set up for the reception of her sister's wedding. "Father!"

"Hush, Rebecca," scolded the housekeeper, Mrs. Clarks. "Your father is quite busy at the moment. And where have you been? You're absolutely filthy! Abigail needs you to try on your bridesmaid dress."

"Oh, Mrs. Clarks," said Rebecca, pulling a face, "not again!"

"Yes, again. Now, hurry upstairs." As Rebecca walked upstairs, Mrs. Clarks called after her, "And wear a better hat next time you go outside; you're getting those awful freckles!"

Rebecca rolled her eyes. _Mrs. Clarks is almost as bad as Mother,_ she thought. Rebecca opened a door and walked in to find her sister and mother in hysterics. "Rebecca Gwendolyn Armand," gasped Mrs. Claudette Armand, "you're filthy! Why must you go out and stand in that dust and dirt?"

"Rebecca, can't you be on time for a dress fitting?" asked Abigail with a sigh. "My own little sister wants to ruin my wedding!" She started to sniffle and dabbed a handkerchief at her eyes.

"I do not!" said Rebecca. "I didn't know about a dress fitting at all today."

"We discussed the issue at dinner last night, Rebecca," said Mrs. Armand. "I cannot believe you've forgotten." She sat down in a huff on a satin-covered chair. The other four bridesmaids in the room sighed and threw their noses in the air, as if the sight of Rebecca repulsed them.

"Lucia, give Miss Rebecca the dress to try on," said Abigail to her Mexican attendant.

"Yes, Miss Abigail," she answered, and carried the yellow and white dress to the younger Armand.

Rebecca grabbed the dress and walked over to the dressing screen. Once dressed, she walked out, and Mrs. Armand sighed.

"I guess it'll have to do. Rebecca looks quite horrendous in those colors, but you insisted, Abigail," she said, looking at her elder daughter.

"Mother, I can't help it if my friends look fine in canary and ivory and Rebecca looks atrocious," she pointed out. "Rebecca, do you have some other dress you could wear in that style?"

"Abigail…"

"Oh, it doesn't matter, Mother, since she's the maid of honor; a different dress will look alright," said Abigail. "Well, do you, Rebecca?"

"I haven't gotten a new dress forever, Abigail; you know that," she said a tad harshly. "What point is there in buying me new dresses when I despise wearing them, anyways?" She turned and looked at Mrs. Armand. "Mother, since Abigail seems so put out about me being in her wedding, why can't I just not be in it?"

"Rebecca, you are the youngest daughter in this family," Claudette said. "Abigail was in Margaret's wedding, Margaret was in Cynthia's wedding, and Cynthia was in Elizabeth's wedding. Is it too much to ask for you to continue the tradition? And you, Abigail, do not fuss about the colors and the dress. No one will really notice Rebecca anyways. You may leave now, Rebecca."

Rebecca stalked out of the room, with Lupe scurrying in her wake. Rebecca walked quickly down to her room, where she entered, slammed the doors shut, and threw open her closet doors. She reached behind her armoire and pulled out a pair of faded, patched pants, an old men's shirt, a hat, vest, and a pair of worn boots. She threw off her everyday dress and dressed in her "disguise". She then gave instructions for Lupe to tell anyone asking for her to say she was napping, then climbed out the window next to a tall tree, which she then skinned down. She then looked around to make sure no one was looking, then ran down to the stables.

Jose Chavez y Chavez had just arrived in California a few days before. He had sold his horse and bought some food and provisions, then made his way to the nearest fruit farm, which just so happened to be the Armand Ranch. He finally would be able to start a new life, away from the memories of New Mexico and of one William H. Bonney.

Chavez walked up to where a man who seemed to be an overseer stood.

"Are you in charge around here?" Chavez asked the man. "I'm looking for work."

"That I am," said the man. "And yes, we do have opportunities of employment here." He pulled out a ledger and opened to a certain page. "Name?"

"Mateo Verde," answered Chavez. He had decided on the name a while ago, knowing the authorities would still be looking for the remainders of the Regulators.

The overseer, Thomas Field, wrote the name down.

"Now then, may I see your pack?" He nodded to the satchel that Chavez carried, who gave it over to him willingly. Mr. Field dug through it a little, and pulled out four throwing knives with an odd look on his face.

"I'm going to have to hang on to these," he said. "We don't let the workers have weapons on the premises." He placed them inside his jacket pocket. Chavez tried to keep calm, though he felt rather anxious without his weapons of choice. Mr. Field called over to a nearby worker. "Pedro!"

"Yes, Mr. Field?" asked Pedro, walking over. "Please show this man to the worker's quarters, then give him his assignments."

"Yes, sir," said Pedro. Chavez followed the worker past the lush green fields, past the Armand residence, and down the path to the rows of small cabins behind the stables.

"Pedro!" hissed a person. Chavez watched as a figure in men's clothes, but who certainly wasn't a man, walked out of the stables, leading a saddled red horse. "Where's Field right now?"

"At the east entrance," answered Pedro. "You're safe to go." Rebecca nodded, then looked up to see Chavez standing behind Pedro. A tinge of recognition ran through Rebecca, but she couldn't fit a name to the face. She smiled at him, and he smiled back in a friendly way. She then mounted her steed and galloped off across to the western section of the ranch.

"Come on," said Pedro. He walked down the path to the compound.

"Who was that?" asked Chavez.

Pedro spun around. "That was Rebecca Armand, Mr. Armand's youngest daughter. She likes to go riding sometimes, and she trusts me to keep her secret. You better not say a word, either."

"I won't," said Chavez quietly, watching as the patch of dust following Rebecca grew smaller and smaller.

Throughout the next week, whenever Rebecca walked down to the fields to look for ways to improve the productions, she looked for the new worker. The nagging notion of seeing this man somewhere before constantly assailed her. Maybe not in person had she met him, but perhaps a picture? But why would she have been looking at pictures of Mexican field workers? Finally, one day, she couldn't take it anymore.

Rebecca saw Chavez pulling weeds in a pretty isolated area, so she signaled Lupe to follow her, and they walked over to him.

"_Hola,_" said Rebecca.

Chavez looked up at her and smiled. "Hello."

"Oh, you speak English; good." Rebecca smiled and held out her hand. "I'm Rebecca Armand. I wanted to talk to you for a minute."

Chavez shook her hand lightly. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, this is slightly embarrassing," she said smiling, "but, when I saw you the first time, I had the strangest idea that I knew you from somewhere. I was just wondering if it would have been possible to have seen you or a picture of you somewhere."

Chavez did not respond at first, but then he calmly replied, "No, miss; I don't think that's likely."

"Oh." Rebecca smiled, trying to hide her embarrassment. "Well, alright then." She nearly turned to leave him, but hesitated and asked, "Is the work here alright? I'm sort of my father's helper in the sense of keeping employee morale up and looking for improving things here."

"I haven't been here long," he began, "but I'm fine. I haven't heard any real complaints from other people."

"Oh, good. Well, just so you know, my sister Abigail's wedding is coming up soon, and there's going to be a large _fiesta_ then. I'm rather excited about it, and I know a lot of the other workers enjoy parties every now and then."

"It sounds great," he commented softly.

"Yes, well, I hope to see you there,… Oh dear, I haven't even asked you your name! May I ask for it?"

"Mateo Verde," he answered.

"Wonderful to meet you, Mateo. Now, I'm afraid I have to return to the house; Father will be wanting to talk to me, or Mother. Oh, if you happen to encounter my mother, don't take anything she says too sincerely. She's awfully racist and cynical. Good bye!"

Rebecca turned and walked with Lupe from the fields to the house. The brown-haired, nineteen-year-old educated lady perhaps did not know Chavez's true identity, but the little girl Lupe knew exactly who he was. Lupe's family constantly talked about the stories of _El Chivato_ and his band of Regulators, and Lupe saw a rendering of Chavez in the newspaper in the Armand study. Lupe kept the secret to herself though; she sensed Chavez's need for an alias.

Part 2: Abigail's Wedding

In the week that followed Rebecca meeting Chavez, Rebecca had little time to see him again, as she had to suffer the last-minute wedding preparations. The Armand residence became flooded in flowers, food, bunting, tables and chairs. Guests started to arrive, and Rebecca had to act as hostess as her mother and sister were too preoccupied. This of course meant Rebecca had to wear her few good dresses and stand by her father and welcome people she barely knew or wanted to know. The relations came by the dozen: Great-aunt Philomena and her three little, yappy lap dogs; Grandfather and Grandmother Armand, who of course had to mention how lanky Rebecca looked; millionaire Uncle Manfred and his bratty children, and many others. Abigail's fiancée's relations also arrived: Michael Clemens, the brother of groom-to-be Lane, who Rebecca always found to be a little repulsive; Auntie Gloria, who wasn't _truly_ Lane's aunt, but a very close friend always dripping in diamonds and furs; and Lew Wallace of New Mexico, who had always been a friend of Lane's father, Gerald.

By the end of the week, Rebecca finally had some time alone of herself. She changed into her disguise and rode her horse out to the southern fields, since Pedro alerted her to Field being in the northern part of the ranch. She galloped down the path, past the workers and let her overheated mind cool down under the rather overcast day.

She finally slowed her horse down to a walk and surveyed the workers, who tirelessly toiled away. A smile lit up her face as she saw who she had hoped to see.

"Mateo!" she called out.

Chavez lifted his head and saw Rebecca coming towards him. He stood and smiled a little himself. "_Hola," _he said with a grin.

Rebecca laughed a little. "I could converse with you in Spanish, if you should wish it," she said, matter-of-factly. "Father had the best tutors teach me. In fact, I'm Head Translator around here."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Now, the reason I came down--"

"You'd think the Head Translator would be a Mexican who had learned English."

Rebecca was taken aback a little at this. "Well, Father does trust me, and of course, he doesn't really have to pay me."

"I guess. I didn't really mean anything, Rebecca. Sorry." He chuckled a little. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Well, I just needed to escape a little," she said with a sigh. "Guests are taking over the house, Mother is going insane, and Abigail seems to be crying and whining every time I see her. I always enjoy a good horse ride."

Chavez walked over to the red gelding and stroked it lightly. "You have a beautiful horse, Rebecca."

"Do you enjoy to ride?"

"Yes."

"Isn't it exhilarating? I just love to ride along the paths and through creeks."

"Ever ridden through thorn bushes?"

"What? Well, no. Have you?"

Chavez paused for a moment, and said quietly, "Yes, against my will."

Rebecca gave him an uncertain smile and nodded. "Yes, well, I must be going then. It was nice to see you again, Mateo. Hopefully I will see you at the party."

"Yes; I hope I see you, too."

Rebecca smiled and turned back to her horse. She mounted and rode away from the fields to the Armand house.

Rebecca stood at the front of the church amongst the burning candles. Her sister, wearing the long, elaborate white dress, stood by Lane Clemens at the altar. Rebecca tried not to fidget or scratch at the itchy tight dress. The ceremony had been going on for at least two hours; how much longer would it take for the two to marry? Finally, Rebecca saw that the two were sharing their first kiss as a married couple. She joined in the applause of the wedding guests and followed her sister and brother-in-law as they walked down the aisle. Finally, the wedding was over, and the reception would begin.

Back at the house, Rebecca politely stood by her family and welcomed the guests again and accepted their gifts. Mrs. Armand dismissed Rebecca to let her make sure enough chairs had been set up for the guests. Rebecca found her chance of escape then.

Walking up the staircase and then running to her room, Rebecca smiled with glee. The sun was setting, and the fiesta down at the workers' compound would soon begin. In her room, the young woman tore off the yellow satin dress and grabbed the blue and black cotton dress under her bed. Rebecca had asked Lupe's sister, Amalia, if she could borrow it in exchange for a dollar, and to patch up a couple little tears on the dress. The apparel fit Rebecca like a glove, and she twirled and spun in front of her mirror, watching the cotton spin around her. She then clasped the black lace choker around her neck and twisted her hair into a bun. She quickly pinned a note to her door, explaining she had a headache and did not want to be disturbed, then hitched up her dress and was out the window.

Down at the fiesta, all the Armand ranch workers danced, laughed, drank, and ate, creating a most festive atmosphere. Upon Rebecca's arrival, she was greeted with hugs and kisses and handshakes, as though she were the bride herself. Rebecca laughed and smiled and danced with anyone who asked. She patted the little children on the head, and chatted with the older workers about the weather. Finally, she saw her target of that night sitting with a few other field workers, quietly talking. Rebecca hurried over and sat down next to her friend.

"Mateo, it's great to see you tonight," she gushed. "Are you having fun? I hope the fiesta is meeting your satisfaction."

The other men at the table gave Chavez odd looks and grinned at each other. Chavez noticed their expressions. "Rebecca, would you like to dance?"

"Most certainly, Mateo." She took his hand and they walked down to where the band picked away on guitars and fiddles. A lively song filled the air, and the two joined the dancing couples. A few men on the side pointed and commented on the newest recruit dancing with the rancher's daughter. One of the bigger men, Felipe Garcia, walked up to them and shoved Chavez in the shoulder. Chavez looked up and glared at Felipe, and Rebecca reprimanded him.

"Felipe, sit down. You'll have your chance to dance if you wish."

"Not as close as this _pendejo _is dancing with you, Rebecca." Rebecca looked up at the blood-shot eyes and reeled at the stench of the breath.

"You're drunk, Felipe. Go to bed and not be late to work tomorrow."

"I just want one dance, Miss Armand," he slurred, reaching for her. Chavez pushed him away, making him stumble and fall into a nearby table. Felipe clambered to his feet, but his friends held him back from a potential fight.

"I think I better call it a night, Miss Armand," said Chavez, letting go of her hand. He walked off from the party, down to the servants' quarters. Rebecca decided not to follow him, though the urge was strong, and she returned to the festivities, away from Felipe Garcia.

A short while later, as Rebecca ate an enchilada with other Mexican girls her age, Lupe ran up to her.

"Miss Rebecca, you're family is here looking for you. They're awfully mad."

Rebecca jumped up from her chair and ran down to the darkness surrounding the bright lights of the _fiesta_. She could see her father on a gray horse interrogating the workers, especially the men. Rebecca crouched in the inky darkness, thinking. Should she appear, telling her father she had just wanted to check on the workers? But she knew they would suspect the party dress and her breath smelling of enchilada and tequila. Should she run back to the house and change quickly? But then she would suffer the consequences of not attending to her sister.

A sudden rustling and snapping of brush to her left broke her concentration. Rebecca looked up to see Felipe's face gazing at her. Rebecca let out a scream as he grabbed at her, and she threw sand in his eyes and broke cover, running. Coming to the first little servant cabin, she opened the door, ran in, and slammed it shut.

"Mateo?" she gasped in surprise to see her friend sitting by the fireplace. She had ran to the cabin occupied by several young bachelor workers without knowing it. In her distraction, she forgot to lock the door, and soon, the door was thrown open and Felipe rushed in, tackling Rebecca. Chavez lunged at him, and, though he was far smaller, succeeded in prying the two apart, and punched Felipe across the face. Rebecca pressed herself against a far wall and watched as Chavez expertly subdued her attacker.

Soon, Rebecca saw her father's figure, Mr. Field, and his aides in the doorway, and Chavez stood, leaving a moaning, bloody Felipe on the ground. Chavez caught Rebecca just as she fainted, and held her sturdily.

"Help her, men," commanded Mr. Armand. He stepped in around Felipe's mass and walked over to Chavez. The other men had taken Rebecca and laid her on a bed and they all looked at her savior.

"Your name, man?" asked Mr. Armand.

"Mateo Verde," he answered quietly.

"And why is my daughter in your dwelling?"

"She ran in here, sir. This man," he gestured towards Felipe, "was pursuing her, for reasons I'm sure weren't honorable."

Mr. Armand nodded slightly and saw to Rebecca, who now stirred.

"Rebecca, why are down here? And whose dress is that?"

"Father, I--I'm sorry," she whispered. "But please, thank Mr. Verde here. He saved me from that other fellow." She shakily stood with her father's help. "I'll explain everything later."

"You'll explain yourself now," he said loudly. "Young lady, we were looking everywhere for you. Why on earth are you wearing this rag, and why are you _cavorting_ with these workers? Didn't you see it would cause trouble?"

"You let me go to parties before, Father."

"Yes, well now I see it was quite a mistake." He took her arm firmly and went to leave. "Men, deal with that fellow on the ground. Mr. Verde, thank you for whatever it is you did to save Rebecca here."

"You're welcome, sir."

Mr. Armand led Rebecca out the door and up to where their horses stood. Chavez meant to follow, but he was held back by Mr. Armand's two aides. The taller of the two smiled at him a bit.

"Fancy Miss Armand, eh?"

"Excuse me?"

"All the new workers try to get extra attention from Rebecca," he said with a grin.

"You often speak of Miss Armand like this?" Chavez asked with reproach.

"She's always been too friendly with the workers, you must understand. There's actually been a couple of deaths over fighting for her honor. Trust me, boy, if you don't want to end up buried out here, you forget about Rebecca right now."

The men pushed Felipe out the door and nodded a good-bye to Chavez. They closed the door and walked up to their horses. Mr. Field asked the others, "Did that feller seem familiar to you?"

"Not really. Why?"

"I don't know. I just feel like I've seen him, or a picture of him or something."

The others shrugged and they mounted their horses and rode up to the ranch house. Mr. Field looked back through the rough window at the figure standing by the fire, deep in thought.

Part 3: Communication

July 23, 1878

It is the third day I've been stuck indoors. Mrs. Clarks constantly patrols the upstairs, checking on me every ten minutes or so. Lupe and I have played cards for hours and hours, and she's napping now, so I'm bored out of my mind. I want to return to the outdoors, to see Mateo again. I wonder about him a lot. I do hope that Felipe leaves him alone. The thought of anything awful happening to him makes me shudder. I think back to when we talked in the fields, even if those times were brief, and I remember thinking I wanted to care for him, to let him come from the fields to the house, to let him have nice clothes and food to eat, everything different from the servants' present fares. Of course, Mother and Father wouldn't understand that, as they are stuck in their little world of finding me a suitable husband. When Father brought me up to the house after the party, he sent me to bed and I heard him discussing with Mother about my "future". Oh yes, I always wanted a snobby, boorish husband who didn't even love me for my future. But I heard them talking about the various options, as though I was a piece of furniture, and looking for a suitable person to buy and use me. They kept coming back to Michael Clemens, though I cannot abide the man. Perhaps they think I will be happy if I marry in the family Abigail married into, though I cannot abide Abigail either. I always thought Father wanted me to stay here, so that I could help him with the work. I never really wanted to move away and marry a man who didn't love me. But, now it seems like Father thinks I'll end up running away with a servant or worker if I don't marry a "good" man. I never even conceived that idea until Mateo came. I don't want to run away, of course. But, why can't I love him? Why does the matter of his skin's color count in the way of love? This may seem insane to say; I've only known the man a month or so. Still. I wonder a lot about him, hoping he's alright.

Rebecca placed down her pen at the sound of the knocked door. She called out, "Yes, who is it?"

A hesitant pause followed.

"_Puedo entrar?"_

"_Si claro, Lucia."_

Rebecca looked questioningly at her mother's servant. "Yes, Lucia?"

"Miss Rebecca, I come with news from the field workers' quarters," she said quietly, closing the door without a sound. "News about a worker has reached me, and I think you ought to know."

"What is it?"

"Well, I've heard a rumor, miss, and I don't know if it's true…"

"You shouldn't be spreading false information, Lucia; it'll be the end of you if I catch you spreading rumors."

"Miss Rebecca, it's just that I have heard a very true rumor."

"A very true rumor?"

"A very true rumor, Miss Rebecca. I've heard that lately, a new worker came here, and he was one of the gang of Billy the Kid…"

"_The_ Billy the Kid? Lucia, if I find you are lying…"

"No, Miss Rebecca, I'm not. Actually, I know that the man, the one called Jose Chavez y Chavez in the papers, has come here as a worker."

Rebecca was shocked. "Do you know what he looks like? Is he dangerous, what?" Rebecca's heart pounded.

"I do not know, miss, but I'd stay away from the workers you do not know very well."

"Alright, Lupe." Lupe curtsied and was about to leave when Rebecca said, "Wait a minute, Lupe. Could you deliver a message to one of the workers for me? I'll write it quickly." Rebecca sat down and scribbled out a message and folded the paper. She wrote Mateo's name on the front and handed the note to Lupe. "Please deliver this to Mateo Verde."

She eyed it suspiciously. "Miss Rebecca, I don't know if your mother would…"

"It's just a note to thank him for the heroic deed of saving my life, Lupe," Rebecca reassured her. "Now, off you go, and thank you." Rebecca pushed her out the door and smiled. Then, an awful thought hit Rebecca. Most of the workers couldn't read! Oh, what if Lupe had to read the note to him? Well, Lupe was a loyal and reliable servant, and wasn't about to tattle-tell to Mrs. Armand. Rebecca sighed happily and lay down on her bed, inviting dreams to her head. Dreams about her and a certain dark-eyed field hand.

July 31, 1878

Lupe continues to relay our messages. I pay her a few extra coins and she happily does my bidding, and I thank her daily. Mateo writes that he hasn't heard about the conspirator in the ranks, and he says to not punish Lupe for the rumor. I believe him and continue to decipher his notes. Thankfully he reads and writes, if not the best. His writing has improved, though, and our messages are quite clear. I copy the messages in this diary and then sadly burn the original, in fear that Mother or Father or, heaven forbid, Mrs. Clarks would find them. No, I needn't even write them down, as I commit them to memory. He speaks of thinking me beautiful and wonderful and kind to the workers when others above them treat them like dirt. I pity the poor, and help whenever I can. Mother has allowed a male guard go with me to distribute food a few times, and I catch Mateo's eyes and we smile at each other secretly.

However, the suitor-matching continues. Michael Clemens visited once, and he walked with me, and I couldn't abide him. When we walked by the fields, I saw Mateo working under the sun, and could only watch him, closing out the boring talk of Michael. But when I heard him say "What are you staring at, Rebecca?" , I felt compelled to answer, "Nothing.", and he responded with, "I should hope so. I don't find those illiterate field hands worth staring at except in distaste.". I stormed off from him, and he followed, realizing that I help manage the workers. He apologized, but I shrugged him off and went up to my room. I suffered the wrath of Mother as she complained of me being rude, but I enjoyed irking Michael immensely.

Rebecca put down her pen and closed her diary as her door opened. Mrs. Armand entered and looked at her daughter.

"Yes, Mother?" asked Rebecca respectfully.

"I'll be frank, Rebecca," Mrs. Armand said quietly as she drew near. "I've been informed that you have been sending messages to a male worker."

"Who told you this?" asked Rebecca as she stood.

"That is not to be said, but it shall be said that Lupe has been dismissed from my service."

"Mother, it's not her--"

"She disobeyed me, Rebecca. And I'm ashamed of you. Fraternizing with a worker when dear Mr. Clemens wishes to marry you. Do you know how few men have shown interest in you?"

"I don't want to marry him, Mother."

"You shall be married to whom you're told! And you needn't worry about that field hand anymore; he's being physically punished this afternoon."

Rebecca's eyes widened; she knew that "physical punishment" involved the lash of the whip, the number determined by the crime. "What! Why?"

"For writing unsuitable letters to you, that's why.

"Mother, please, don't punish him; punish me."

Mrs. Armand eyed her daughter oddly. "You would receive the punishment if we let him alone?"

"Yes."

"Would you marry Mr. Clemens to save Mr. Verde from his punishment."

Rebecca's hands trembled as she nodded. Hot tears formed in her eyes as she glared at her mother. "But please, let me speak to Mateo."

Mrs. Armand's eyes narrowed. "You shall never communicate with that vile creature again, Rebecca. I shall write Mrs. Clemens tomorrow morning."

Part 4: Rebecca's Wedding

In mid-August, the family of Michael Clemens arrived at the Armand Ranch. The wedding for the youngest Armand daughter wouldn't be the grandest, but it was still to be celebrated. However, as the guests arrived and asked about the bride, Mrs. Armand apologized and said her daughter was much too nervous and busy to greet visitors, and due to stress had been feeling ill. In actuality, Rebecca barricaded herself in her room, sitting at the bay window, tears falling unchecked onto her lap. She stared out to the fields below, and she watched the workers go about their work. Sometimes she saw Chavez below, and she cried bitterly, knowing she would never have the chance to love him.

Finally, a couple of days before the wedding, Lucia was allowed into the room and she sat by her mistress's daughter.

"Mr. Clemens wishes to see you, Miss Rebecca," she said softly. "And you need to try on your wedding gown. Please, Miss Rebecca, come downstairs."

"I can't imagine what Mateo must think of me." Rebecca wiped her eyes and grasped the servant's hand. "Does he know why I am doing this?"

"Yes, I told him in the quarters," Lucia answered. "He understands. Please, Miss Rebecca, know that I told him that you cared for him. He says that he wishes your love for each over could grow, but it is impossible. He told me that he hopes you will at least get to know and love Mr. Clemens. It's the only choice."

Rebecca slowly nodded and stood from the seat. Lucia smiled and took her hand. They walked downstairs together to meet Mr. Clemens and his family.

Rebecca began to force herself to tolerate Michael. Though he proved brash sometimes, he did prove a gentleman expected for the Armand girl. He was courteous and generous, and smiled at Rebecca all day. The feelings for Chavez, though still strong, were slowly pushed to the back of her mind. It was a dream, she told herself, for her to ever marry a field hand. Her life in the big house had prepared her for a comfortable life, not one of toil. She began to accept her fate.

Just two nights before the wedding, however, Rebecca was walking down to the small office near the smoking room when she overheard Michael, Lane Clemens, Mr. Field, and Rebecca's cousin John Armand talking.

"Well, I don't think Rebecca would believe it if we told her," Michael said. "She's much too naïve."

"I heard that Mrs. Armand even told her to stay away from the workers," John commented. "And look what happened."

"A shotgun wedding, almost," said Lane.

"Well, hopefully not with all the same causes," said Mr. Field and the men all laughed. "Still, I can't believe that I couldn't figure the whole thing out from the beginning."

"It isn't your fault, Mr. Field," said Michael. "I just can't understand her attraction to that man. He's a runaway, an outlaw, a half-blood Mexican."

"Can't figure out how you came in second place to him?" asked Lane.

"Shut up, Lane. I know she's marrying me to save that creature from a punishment, and that Armand doesn't have the heart to throw him off the fields. But why not turn him in? Collect the money?"

"What, tonight?" asked John.

"Yeah. Wire Lincoln County and tell him we've found him."

"I'd agree to that," said John. "It'd be a disgrace to the family to see Rebecca fawn over that field hand."

"Then it's agreed. We go down to the police station, wire Lincoln County, come back with an officer, and send this Chavez y Chavez to New Mexico."

The others nodded, then Mr. Field added, "You know, I don't think anyone would object to us, er, _restraining_ him at all."

"Now hold on, Field," said Michael. "Mr. Armand said not to touch him."

"Yeah, but what if he attacked us? After all, he's a dangerous outlaw."

"Yeah, give him a lesson for harassing Rebecca like that," said John.

"What do you say, Michael?" asked Lane.

A slight pause was followed by, "I guess I don't have a choice."

"Good," said Mr. Field. "Now, the paper here says he was the knife slinger of the bunch. No wonder he had all those knives when he got here."

"He doesn't still have them, does he?"

"What kind of overseer do you think I am? I took them away and put them with the other weapons those ragtag workers try to smuggle in."

"Well, come on, men," said Lane. "We don't have much time." The four agreed and left the smoking room, walking upstairs.

Rebecca walked from the office to the smoking room, and saw the paper on the table. A rendering of Mateo's picture was on the front page, with two others of William H. Bonney's gang, Josiah "Doc" Scurlock and the Kid himself. A reward sum was posted under the drawing, along with Mateo's real name, Jose Chavez y Chavez. Rebecca's stomach turned and she collapsed in a chair.

The harsh bite of reality hit her, and she leapt up, knowing there was no time to lose. She ran to the office, taking the spare key and opening the contraband cupboard. She pulled out the box of workers' confiscated weapons. She immediately realized that the four shining blades on top belonged to Chavez. She grabbed these and cautiously made her way outside and down to the servants' quarters.

Arriving at the bachelor cabin, she quickly knocked and swung the door open. Several male workers looked up in surprise.

"_A fuera!" _she commanded, except she halted Chavez. When the others had left, she looked gravely at him. She took the knives from behind her back and gave them to him.

"What are you doing, Rebecca?" he asked. "These aren't--"  
"Yes, they are yours, Jose," she said grimly. Tears brimmed her eyes, but she brushed them away. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was trying to forget that life, Rebecca. I didn't want that life any more."

"You wanted to run away from the law?"  
"Don't speak to me about the law! The law looked the other way when John Tunstall was killed, when my friends died! When my family was slaughtered!" He turned away from her. "I wanted a new life, Rebecca." He sat down on the bunk, and Rebecca sunk down next to him.

"I'm sorry for leaving you, for being engaged to Michael," she whispered.

"I am not angry at that, Rebecca. We never had a chance together." He looked deeply into her eyes. "Did we?"

"No," she whispered. "We didn't. That's why you need to go now. Michael and Mr. Fields and a few others are going to the police; they're going to arrest you. Please, you need to run now, Mat--I mean, Jose."

"And where would I go, Rebecca? The word would spread, I'd be arrested by anyone." He held her hand and leaned toward her. "I'd rather share my last moments of freedom with you." Before Rebecca knew it, she was sharing her first kiss, and they clung to each other, awaiting the inevitable.

Part 5: A New Life for Rebecca

When Clemens brothers and Mr. Field burst into the cabin, they encountered Chavez standing sturdily with Rebecca at his side, holding his hand. Michael started for them, but was restrained by Lane. "You son of a…!"

"Michael, please!" cried Rebecca. "I don't want any trouble. Mr. Chavez has agreed to go on his own will.

"Miss Rebecca, go back home," said Mr. Field. "This man is a criminal."

"Of unfortunate circumstances, nothing more," Rebecca argued. "Please, he's willing enough to accept his punishment; don't mistreat him."

"He'll accept his punishment for murder and thievery without additional reprimand, but for the act of seducing a white woman…," growled Mr. Field.

"_Seduction_! How dare you, Mr. Field!" Rebecca cried.

"Did you not send letters to this man, and did not he return them?"

"I…"

"I never thought I would marry a…a whore!" shouted Michael. Chavez then broke free from Rebecca's hold and leapt at Michael, punching and kicking, as the opponent delivered the same. Rebecca screamed for a halt, and the other men, laughed, knowing they had another crime pinned on Chavez: assault on a white man, and one from the prominent Clemens family at that.

Eventually, Michael gave up and the others hauled Chavez upright, just as John arrived with the police officers in tow.

"What is going on here?" asked one officer.

"We found this man here with Miss Armand, sir; his intentions were quite obvious," said Mr. Field angrily. "Mr. Clemens there tried to stop him, and the results are evident."

"Is that the way of it?" the officer asked Lane.

"Yes, sir."

"No, it's not!" yelled Rebecca.

"Oh, poor Miss Armand, she's in shock," said Mr. Field. "You better look closely at that man, officers. You may note he's quite similar to the pictures in the papers of a certain Jose Chavez y Chavez."

"Why, so it is!" exclaimed the other officer. "Good work, gentlemen. The reward money will be coming your way shortly."

"But please, officers!" begged Rebecca. She ran over and grasped Chavez's arm, but Lane pulled her away.

"There, dear, you had a terrible fright; you just need rest," he said. "Take him away, good sirs." The officers handcuffed Chavez and tipped their hats to the gentlemen, then hauled him off. Rebecca collapsed on the floor, tears pouring from her.

Lane and John walked away in the awkward pause, leaving Michael and Mr. Field.

"Come on, dear," said Michael quietly, taking Rebecca's arm. "Let's get you back inside." He stood, and looked down and saw the knife in his heart. Mr. Field's face showed satisfaction as Michael gasped for breath, then coughed and fell over, death taking him.

"You little trouble maker," Mr. Field said, staring greedily at Rebecca. "You've always had the workers gawking after you, but Mr. Armand just told them to behave. If I wanted you, that would mean expulsion. Now, there's no Mexican-Injun, nor a fancy little city boy. You're coming with me, hear?" He held the knife menacingly close to her throat, but the fear would not envelope her. Her left hand shot up, knocking the wind from his stomach, and she caught the knife in her right. She slashed the knife across Mr. Field's throat, and watched as he died.

At first, desperation grasped her, but soon, she overcame her fear and raced for the stables. She found a saddlebag, filled it with rations from a nearby hut, then saddled her horse and galloped away from the ranch, leaving behind her whole life for come what may.

Rebecca made it to the Midwest, where she settled in Wisconsin as a librarian. Following Chavez's example, she changed her name to Emily Sinclair. She saw the newspapers with their reports on the Lincoln County wars and the return of William H. Bonney, and when the report of the disappearance of Chavez reached her, she spent countless nights tossing and turning, wondering about him.

Eventually, Rebecca caught the eye of a shy young banker. They married in 1879, and Rebecca came to enjoy married life with George Bishop. As George became a successful banker, their family grew, and they welcomed a baby boy in 1880. The family expected a George Bishop, Jr., but were surprised when the baby's name was Joseph George Bishop.

After the addition of another son, Matthew Charles Bishop, and a daughter, Lucinda Marie Bishop, Rebecca's anxiety and nightmares lessened, and she began to forget about life in California. But still, she thought about that mysterious man, Chavez, and his life. After she researched the sad plight of many Indian reservations, she crusaded for improvements for Indians, Mexicans, and other minorities.

And in 1945, as Lucinda was going through the belongings of her deceased mother, she came across a strange throwing knife, nicked and a little dull, but still a fabulous weapon. She found the initials J.C.C. carved into the pommel.


End file.
